The Fringe (Natalie Prior's story)
by infinitestormtales
Summary: The story of Tris's mum Natalie prior. the story of her life in the fringe.
1. Chapter 1

Written By Lucy.

 ** _Annabel_**

What had she done? I stared in horror at the pulsing crimson streak. It seemed to be everywhere! I couldn't look away. I felt faint and sick. I felt shocked and terrified. He was dead! My very father was DEAD! Not only that but killed by the very woman who raised me. My mother! I know it had been an accident. They'd been arguing and it had got just to out of hand but I just couldn't bare it. The strict, mean woman who once upon a time held me an whispered words of encouragement when I was scared or hurt or upset.

I managed to tear my eyes away from the angry, red, ever growing patch of terrible blood. So big and terrifying and meaningful now that soon it would engulf me. I closed my eyes and there it was again. Imprinted onto my eyelids; burned into my subconscious. I took a stumbling step backwards, then another, then another until suddenly I was running, sprinting, as if I was being chased by blood hounds. my frozen cold, bare feet slapped against the hard, cracked concrete. Getting stabbed and scratched but I could not stop. My non existent muscles burned, they were on fire but I could not stop! Ever since the shortage of food arrived my muscles have been turned into nutrition for my body but for some reason-most likely the sense of fear and pure terror that orbited that run down shack- I was running faster than ever before.

I passed the broken, barbed wire fence and crossed into unknown territory. No one in the city knew what was out here. My feet started tripping over each other from exhaustion. CRASH! I fell tumbling, head first into the ground! The branch I tripped over landed on top of me and felt something warm trickle down my arm and cheek. I heaved the massive branch of my legs and assessed my injuries. I had a shallow gash along the side of my cheek and a deep wound in my shoulder where the wood had pierced my skin. I groaned. One hour at most and already I was hurt! How on earth was I going to survive for the rest of my years? "Maybe I should just go back?" One side of me said. "No." the other ordered. "Remember what happened!" I could hear and feel the argument ricocheting of the different parts of my brain. I sighed...

It's then that I heard it... The squeal of a poor, frightened little girl... And through the trees I spotted them...

* * *

The man was huge! Copper skinned with bedraggled jet black dread locks everywhere, like an intimidating Afro. 'cos that's what he was: dangerous and intimidating. His shirt must have once been white but know it was a deathly grey, the sleeves had been cut short and then ripped and torn even shorter by the bulging muscles which burst from underneath. His trouser were a dirty navy blue colour and jagged at the bottom. His boots were weirdly highly polished. They were brown, high boots with buckles which looked like torture, a heel made of of a blade and a deadly wheel at the back of each shoe which dug into the earth as he walked so he was always planted on his ground. In one hand was a club with all different tipes of blades, needles and knives sticking out of the wood like arms reaching for the pain of a victim. In the other hand was a minuscule little girl with hair as black as night, in a dress so grey and bedraggled it could no longer be called a dress who carried a battered, weather worn teddy bare. She looked no older than six!

I ground my teeth in anger. Snatching up the bent, twisted, gnarled branch from my feet, I dashed out into the scene. I pushed the little girl away and with battle cry flung the twisted branch into the murderer's head. The tangled twigs gripped his skin. Blood poured from the gaping wounds and the giant boulder of a man fell with a heavy thud to the floor! What had I done? I'd only wanted to stop him and now he was dead! I was no better than my mother. "Maybe it runs in the family." I thought hopelessly.

"Thanks for that." the little girl stated calmly. Now that I looked her hair wasn't infact black but blonde and matted with dirt. Suddenly I realised she was begining to saunter away.

"Wooah! Wait a minute! You can't just walk away! Who are you? What were you doing? Where are you from? What's your name?" I shouted breathlessly after her.

"My name Is Annabel." The girl replied...


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Home sweet home.

"Where are we going Annabel?" I ask after hours of tripping, stumbling, slipping and sliding.

"My home." She replies gesturing to a rundown clearing where a leaning Pylon had ripped up a mangled patch of ground, the wind was howling through the rungs like screams and the bent metal was scorched and twisted.

"This is your home?" I ask aghast.

"No not here." She says laughing "Here…" And she climbed into the ripped up ground under the pylon.

"Oh…" I gasp when we look inside.

Inside the little burrow was a cosy, tiny room with walls made of packed earth, a sheet of dirty, dark green tarpaulin covered the floor and five sleeping mats were rolled up and stuffed against the wall. Four figures were squashed together like sardines in a tin and trying to coax a feeble fire into life.

"Hey Everybody, We have a new friend" Annabel States whilst gesturing to me,

"Oh, yay!" cries a little boy of about nine or ten. He has twinkling, shining chocolate brown eyes, a head of messy straw coloured hair that seemed to stick up all over the place and a happy, joyful big grin. He made me feel better by just looking at him.

"Oh great," a voice came from the corner and a girl glared at me with her piercing, striking green eyes. "Yet another mouth to feed" she sneered at me. Her skin was deathly pale and her hands were long and thin and elegant but I got the feeling she could strangle me if she wanted to. What really caught my attention though was her hair. It was bright red and she seemed to have tried to force it into a plait over her shoulder but it was huge, bushy and messy giving it the look of a flame trying to escape. I almost asked why they were bothering with the fire at all.

"Kat," Says the boy poking the fire, "Let the kid have some sought of welcome." He laughed.

"I'm not a kid," I say desperately, "I'm 13!"

"Alright then keep your hair on." Replies and laughs again. He looked about 15-16 His hair was thick, brown and overgrown, a bit like a mop, His eyes to were brown but-unlike the sandy haired boy-they were lighter like wood and full of a mixture of sadness and laughter. I could tell he had had a lifetime of hard ship but judging from what I could tell of the girl with the fire like hair, not as hard as some. That's about the only gift I have. I can read people really well.

"Why should I give her any type of Welcome? She'll be nothing but trouble and that's the end of it." The girl, I think her name was Kat shouted.

She and the boy broke into a fierce argument until suddenly the fourth member of the company stood up. I could tell instantly that he held the authority because both instantly shut up.

"She shall stay with us." He spoke with ease under the howling wind. "If she is new to the Fringe then she will have little chance to survive."

"What's the fringe?" I whisper to Annabel

"This is," she replies "It's the strip of land between the cities where outsiders, exiles and GDs live."

"GDs?"

"Genetically Damaged. It means there's a fault in our genetic code."

"Oh."

"It appears we have a new member of our group." The leader says smiling at me. "Tell me, what is your name?"

"Natalie," I breathe hoarsely,

"Well Natalie, I am Ali, This is Kat," He gestures to the girl half hidden in shadow, "Ben" the boy poking the fire winks, "and Jo-jo." He points to the bouncy, sandy haired boy. "Please join us."

Five hours later and Kat and Ben were arguing again.

"For heaven's sake Ben," Kat screeched, "We can't cover the hole 'cos then there'd be no way for the smoke to escape!"

They were arguing about how the wind kept billowing down the burrow and blowing out the fire.

"What do you suggest we do then?" He shouted back.

"You could create a shield…" I murmur.

"What?" Kat demands.

I jump, not expecting to be heard.

"Oh, um, err…" I gulp.

"Go on, spit it out."

"You could find a large piece of slate and set it up using string and metal so that it's facing the wind and it glancing of its surface."

"That's not actually such a bad idea." Ben agrees. Kat scoffs.

"Indeed." Ali announces, "We shall do it." And we all climbed out of the burrow.


End file.
